


Thestral

by y3llowdaisi3s



Series: Little Lion Man [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 06:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/y3llowdaisi3s/pseuds/y3llowdaisi3s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Final Battle, Draco takes some time to reflect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thestral

**Author's Note:**

> Goodbye entry for The Family Boot Camp Challenge, Blood entry for Your Favorite Hogwarts House Boot Camp Challenge, Milestone entry for Favorite Character Boot Camp Challenge. 
> 
> Thank you to MissingMommy and tygermine for quickly beta'ing this chapter so I could post it so quickly.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize, and maybe even some of the stuff you don't (I live on hp-lexicon).

He was able to see them. He didn't realize it was from seeing Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard ever, even if he was a fool, killed by an _Avada Kedavra_  that was fortunately  _not_  cast by him. He remembered running from the castle, hustled by his godfather past Hagrid's hut, into the Forbidden Forest. And there being these huge winged horses, with skeletal black bodies. He recalled learning about them during fifth year, but of course he didn't pay them much attention – he couldn't see them. Before.

It was just a few short weeks later that the Muggle Studies teacher was killed right in front of him, above his family dining table – the one where they, his family, would celebrate the holidays. It was the table where his family would have a belated birthday dinner for him. He'd receive the presents that weren't delivered to him while at school. That year, his gift was to witness the death of a teacher,  _again_.

He wondered what he would get this year; it would surely be an Azkaban sentence. He'd prefer that than witnessing another death. He had had enough of that, thank you very much.

Maybe it was her death that made them more vivid.

After escaping the ill-cast Fiendfyre, he came to the conclusion that his father was an idiot. As was every Malfoy and Black in his family tree – the ones blasted off were geniuses he decided. Maybe not his mum. She was a saint. Always a saint. He hadn't realized how much she loved him and the lengths she would go, due to that love until two summers ago, when she had cast the Unbreakable Vow with his godfather. And tonight just solidified that love. She had lied to the Dark Lord. She lied. For him.

And his godfather. His godfather was gone. He, who was more of a father figure, would no longer be lurking in the shadows. He felt remorse for not trusting him, asking for his advice, just being in his life more. Maybe, if Draco hadn't had his head so far up his arse, he wouldn't have followed his father down the path to getting chucked into Azkaban. Boy, was he a prat.

And because of that, , Vince, someone he once considered a friend – before school started and they were all introduced to Slytherin politics. Maybe, if Draco wasn't such a dick the whole time they were in school, Vince wouldn't have turned out the way he had.

Who was he kidding? They were destined to this path. It was in their blood.

_Blood_.

What a load of old tripe. He hoped his father realized the fallacy of his doctrine. The Dark Lord wasn't even a pureblood, and his father had kneeled at his feet. Your pure blood is better than all, except a madman who was a half-blood, heir of Slytherin be damned.

_Blood._

He'd seen Muggle blood, not a brown speck there. He'd seen Muggleborn blood, it wasn't dirty. He'd seen Half-blood's bleed; it was just as red as his. He'd seen a Pureblood's blood.

It was all red.  _It was all red._

In the end, they all bled the same.

The conclusions, the decisions, the choices, it all boiled down to this. He was done. Done with it all.

What mattered was not your blood or your name. What mattered was family. And even if he hated his father right now, and he would have to do a lot to make up for it, he'd still fight for him. Just like he had fought for them in his sixth year.

He was resolute. He would only care for family. He would respect those who deserved his the respect. He wouldn't give respect simply because his father told him to. He would no longer follow without question. He would make his own decisions. Starting now.

He would say goodbye to the old foul, slimy, evil, little cockroach Malfoy.

_Goodbye._

**Author's Note:**

> I really liked this drabble, and it took a lot out of me. If you choose not to review any chapters to this collection, please consider doing so on this one. It would really mean a lot to me to know what you thought of it.


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